Eloquence
by crary
Summary: Noin is reflecting on Zechs, her attachment to him, all the possibilities of her leaving and his own absence at the moment. Updated! Dump your insecurities.
1. Breaking Silence

Author: Crary 

AN: This was weird, very much so. It was intended to be a myriad little one shot but then Zechs appeared and messed everything up. The first part is a lot of internal thinking, rambling, demented feeling. Please give it a chance if you can and some feedback would be wonderful! 

Disclaimer: GW belongs to whoever owns GW. I borrow their names and likenesses only. 

  
She would admit that her behavior at times was misleading. The tenderness she showed towards him, that unquestioned willingness to follow him, to protect him, to accept any word or action of his without hesitation. She had a weakness for beauty. And he had beauty. He breathed it, shined with it, his hair, his shoulders, the perfectly cut soldier's body with the delicate face. The royal heart beating and pumping royal blood. If there was a flaw with him it would be his voice. It was husky, but it was slightly acidic. What she displayed, what she gave to him, was never insincere. It was the fact that she treated him this way that was misleading to everyone else. This unearned reputation of sympathy, devotion, loyalty. She had all of those things only for him and for other beautiful things. If he was not so beautiful she might have been convinced to defect over to the side of the Gundam pilots earlier. 

They all had the potential, raw potency. But it was not refined. With Zechs, his beauty was blooming, it was growing, but it had also been channeled and was not left as a potential for greatness. And so she stayed with him. This attraction to beauty left her feeling hollow, empty, unfulfilled and fearful. She wondered of her own capacity to love. It wasn't that she could not stand the ugly, the repulsive, the dank and disgusting. It was that when beauty came, she followed. If anyone came along, smelling of orchids, skin golden clean and always hot to the touch, fine eyebrows, clear features and shining hair, she would undoubtedly leave Zechs, leave the Preventers and follow this man or woman until her attentions were pulled elsewhere. Maybe in a few more years, when the ex-pilots had grown more. 

Noin closed her eyes and thought again of how delicate her hold onto this life was. She was sure that if someone with more beauty then Zechs came along, she would follow. And she would leave this life behind without any significant hesitation. But how much hesitation would there be? Would she regret it? This life of routines, of surety, of friends and a steady job with good pay? Would she ever miss Zechs? She had orchids sitting at her desk, wild, riotous in form if not color. Long, shapely velvet petals with intense specks of violent pink. Noin reached her hand out to brush a finger against a petal. She bought these for herself because the scent soothed her. This was the scent she associated with beauty. This elegant, foreign smell only slightly ruined by the tinge of green life. They reminded her of Zechs, though to be true to him, the orchids would have to be white with either pale blue or dark gray speckles. But the pink added color. She needed color in her life right now. 

This was the beginning of the third week without Zechs. He was off on a mission in Bosnia regarding smuggled weapons. And since Heero's knowledge of weapons was superior to her own, he had gone with Zechs. She thought of that thin, wiry body, rough brown hands and dark fingernails. His eyes saved him. The dark, brutal shade of bluish-purple, a sweep of sky before night floods over. His eyelashes were peculiar, an almost faint shade of brown, a shade too dark to be blonde. He was rough beauty, untamed, uncared for and if he grew taller, when his senses changed 


	2. Dinner with Breath Held

Author: Crary  
Email: kyophile@cs.com

AN: I'm really hesitant to put this part out just because I feel that I have rushed it out because I'm happy that I received encouragement. Thank you for the feedback, it's made me promise to try and continue this. There is more thinking, unfortunately, as I'm trying to lay down more groundwork. But, I'm really struggling here. I have no idea what Zechs is going to do. You'd think I should know or something. Feedback extremely appreciated, along with some suggestions of where to head? Thank you!

  


She spent the rest of the night with her head between her knees, wondering again at her own weakness. One of these days, a truly through and through bad, asprining dictator with startling green eyes and black hair would appear and she would willingly follow him in his plans to take over the world. This preoccupation, this full blown obsession with all things beautiful was going to be the death of her. So far, she had eluded any serious mishaps. Except for those incidents where Zechs had briefly gone with White Fang. Those instances when she had faced him, faced the reality that he might be gone, destroying that beauty with no regards to her. Those incidents had been damaging in confidence, in stability. The times that had followed were black nightmares in her mind. And now she was unstable again. It couldn't be that he was perfect. No one was. If she looked closer tomorrow, she would find flaws. She knew it. She had to pay more attention. She raised her head and directly went back to bending over when bile rose in her throat. A slight ridge of dead skin from a scar across his shoulder, or a small frizzled hair among the straight, anything. She knew she would be able to find something. Because he was only human. 

But the thought of him being perfect was not as terrifying as the fact that he was insinuating that he knew what she felt. Knew why she was staying by his side, why she was always by his side without question. He could not know. But she hadn't made it to the rank of a lieutenant by 19 by denying and blinding herself. She was perceptive and inside her heart she knew that he knew. And what of it? Why was he letting her know? What did he want? If it was reassurance, he was getting none. She couldn't even reassure herself. If it was . . .if it was some kind of cryptic warning, then . . .then she didn't know. Noin blew out three breaths in steady, slow succession before getting off of the couch.

She flicked on all of the lights in her apartment, including the lamps and the small nightlight in the hall. She opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of beer hidden deep behind three cartons of orange juice, and half of a lemon. Noin opened the freezer and grabbed some ice cubes. Methodically, she began to peel the skin of the lemon off using an inconvenient carving knife. It was too long, but this way, she had to concentrate more to avoid getting cut. She pretended she didn't know what she was doing, concentrating on peeling, glinting white blade against pale yellow. When she was done and was satisfied that the lemon was faultless, she flicked out the seeds. The ice cubes were beginning to run slightly, water dripping in the bowl she had set out. She sliced the lemon and dropped it into the silver mixing bowl. She made to pour in the entire bottle of beer, but then hesitated and only added in half. To placate herself further, she added more ice cubes. She covered the entire bowl in aluminum foil and let it set on the counter. 

Unnerved by the silence Noin turned on the small screen in the kitchen, flipping channels until the news came on. There was another earthquake in southwestern China, where Sally was stationed at the moment. A 7.6 on the Richter scale. A series of carefully edited images moved onto the screen of rubble, empty streets, a river buried under dirt and children sitting before a skeleton of what once had been their school. Noin changed the channel when she began to think of Zechs again. The phone rang and Noin eyed it warily. 

"Identify caller," Noin called out. 

"Identity blocked," the voice answered. Noin reached out and answered. 

"Hello."

"I imagine you're doing absolutely nothing right now." Noin blinked, reassured by the metallic tang in his voice. She glanced at the chilling bowl, drops of moisture rolling down the sides from the ice and pulled her gaze back to the screen. 

"I'm watching the news. The area where Sally is in was hit by an earthquake," Noin said slickly. 

"And you somehow could foresee that this would happen and ran away from me." His voice was quiet, bare, reflecting his mood. She couldn't pick out the annoyance she knew was there. Careful to keep her own voice equally unreadable, she told him that she had just finished a call to Duo, her temporary partner. "It's still early, we can go to dinner."

"Zechs, it's ten," Noin pointed out, smirking. 

"You don't go to sleep until two. It's early. I'll come to pick you up. I have to talk to you," he added and her stomach twisted. "Noin." 

And his tone had dropped again, the acidity missing. Noin closed her eyes, biting her lip. She had half a mind to go into her room and shoot herself now. But she knew it wasn't plausible. She needed to see him now after hearing him speak. That was how it was. Three weeks was too long. Every moment spent without him when she knew he was so near by, it had worn thin an hour ago. 

"Sure." She hung up and poured out a glass of the diluted beer, putting the rest behind the orange juices, then closed the door. She took a sip, telling herself that this was watery, lemony beer and therefore the alcohol content was low. It was probably nonexistent. This was the only way she could drink any beer at all, diluted, the taste hidden by the flavor of lemons. Even though it frightened her to drink again, she had to drink once in awhile, if only to remember the taste. Noin drank it down sparingly, sip by sip as she walked to her bedroom. The cream colored tile changed into a dark green carpet, soft and new under her feet. She was only halfway done with it by the time she had dressed. He would probably take her out to his favorite restaurant, Denouement, an upscale Japanese place located about fifteen minutes from the Preventers headquarters. 

Personally, she couldn't really handle raw fish. The fried shrimp was fine, but raw fish seemed an unnecessary risk for some disease. Noin ran a hand through her short hair and tossed back the rest of the drink when the doorbell rang. 

~ 

Denouement was two stories high, the floors were waxed wood, the bar white marble and everything gleamed as if it was made of plastic. There were huge flower arrangements near the hostess station and small red leafed trees lining the waiting area. They had been waiting for around seven or eight minutes now as the restaurant would stay busy at least for another two hours. Noin sat in a low slung camel haired chair, keeping her body perfectly still, letting her tongue slide against the back of her teeth, tasting sour lime and pungent beer. Zechs sat beside her, flipping through a magazine. He had changed into a different suit, a solid blue reminding her of Heero's eyes. His hair had been pulled up into a ponytail, his face naked without the distraction of the heavy curtain of white. She glanced at him every few seconds, trying to be covert but failing horribly. She finally settled on simply staring at him, drinking in the outline of his face, the innocent, unpierced ears and the straight, unbroken line of his nose. Her own nose had the smallest bump about one quarter the way down, the consequence of a fight some time two years ago. Her nose would have healed perfectly if not for . . .for her state at that time. 

From memory, she knew that his skin would be hot. His hands were large, fine, his skin unhuman in appearance because one couldn't see the web of veins beneath them. He had always been vain about his appearance to an extent, though nowhere as much as Treize. The ginger haired man went in for massages, full body scrubs, flew in specialists for the care of his hair and had to have a manicure every week. Though it sounded ridiculous, he was being keen. His kept, carefully detailed appearance was made to inspire undying confidence and have his followers believe in perfection. The cut of his uniform had been made to exploit all of his strongest points, the long, tapering gloves to encase his hands, the boots that added to his height both literally and figuratively, the cape that made his shoulders seem broader. In his presence, Treize rarely allowed Zechs to wear a cape. Their public appearances together were all cautiously staged events, always ending with Treize outshining by subduing Zechs' appearance. But those kind of anal tactics had worked. And whatever worked was not to be laughed at. But now that articulate man was gone. 

She had been attracted to him for a long time. In bred charisma, with the blinding white teeth and the cultured voice. His voice had been the best thing about him, persuasive, smooth, an alto lingering in her ears hours after he had left. But he had too many flaws compared with Zechs. It seemed as he aged, he was losing his flaws, Noin thought bitterly. What was her right to chase beauty when she herself wasn't up to her own standards? Lucrezia Noin was a hypocrite. But she couldn't help herself. Just as she couldn't help but keep her eyes open, centered on Zechs, trailing over his body with too much personal satisfaction. He was glorious. The word was so absurd, the phrasing, but he was glorious. She knew because her heart squeezed in exquisite tenderness whenever she thought of him. 

"Noin?" 

"Mm?" 

"How many hours do you think you could simply stare at me?" 


	3. Maybe You

Author: Crary  
P  
AN: Ah! This part is so short, but I decided to post it up anyway. Thank you for the suggestions, Char. I agree that Noin pining for Zechs is old, but, I think that as the fic progresses ... I don't want to reveal anything, but hopefully, it will pan out as I've hoped. Thanks for the feedback, everyone! Very happy about it!   
  
P  
"I've missed seeing you, Zechs. Don't let it go to your head," Noin lied. One thought screamed in her mind. He knows. He knows.   
P  
"Mr. Merquise, Ms. Noin, your table is ready," a hostess said, approaching them and bowing precisely. Noin's eyes scanned over the young woman automatically, picking out the unsuitable layered hair and the absence of bangs on the blonde. She would look better with her hair all one length and with bangs. Blunt bangs would look better with her angular face. They were lead to the table Zechs had requested, outside in a private balcony. A rope of soft lights had been entwined around the balcony, clinging alongside the dark ivy. Zechs pulled out the chair for her, just like he always opened doors for her and offered to let her order first. His upbringing had inbred those things into him, even though it annoyed her sometimes. She could open doors for him too.   
P  
"I've thought about this restaurant for the past three weeks," Zechs sighed, picking up the menu immediately but only scanning it half heartedly. He knew the menu. He had known it after the first time he came. Noin scrutinized the menu, discarding suggestions of fresh fish or soups. She finally decided on safe sounding grilled tri-tip with a side order of tea and cold soba noodles.   
P  
After they had placed their orders, Zechs turned his attention fully on her, pale eyes humming, sharp, contrasting against his darker skin.   
P  
"You wanted to talk about something, right?" Noin asked, sipping her tea. Zechs nodded, loosening his shoulders.   
P  
"Duo." Noin blinked.   
P  
"That's what you want to talk about?" she asked slowly.   
P  
"You're still here with me, so I guess things between you two haven't progressed anywhere."   
P  
"What?" It was on the tip of her tongue to explain that Duo could never usurp Zech's place. It was impossible. Well, perhaps not impossible, but not quite plausible for at least three more years. He was barely twenty. Instead she kept quiet, waiting for him to elaborate. He looked angry now, his jaw tense.   
P  
"He was assigned your temporary partner while I was gone. I know you asked for him specifically." He stayed perfectly still, not shifting in his seat, not reaching for his glass of water or even wavering in staring at her.   
P  
"Zechs, he's twenty," Noin snorted, as if that in itself was answer enough.   
P  
"Is he so much more attractive? Will you leave me for him just because he's so tempting?" he asked. The hurt in his eyes had the blood in her throat burning. Her heart kicked ferociously, draining the color from her face. This was why. This was why he was letting her know that he knew. Because he thought that she was preparing to follow Duo instead? Idiot. For a few moments, before his words had registered only on a literal level, she had almost been fearful. Deathly afraid. But this she could remedy. "Him being twenty doesn't stop you from staring at him, does it Noin? It doesn't keep you from touching him when you refuse to touch me."  
P  
"Zechs," Noin tried to begin, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand, face immaculately clean again as their waiter arrived with the soba noodles. When he had left again, Noin refrained from smiling. It would only irritate Zechs further if he knew she was deliriously amused by his jealousy. "There is nothing going on between the two of us. Just because I don't sleep with you for awhile doesn't mean I'm not interested."  
P  
His face took on a slightly warm tone, as if he were blushing but was suppressing the blood from rushing too much. He almost had minute control over his body. She had been avoiding spending too much time with him, not more than her obsession warranted, before he left with Heero. She had been thinking before that too. And truth be told, she was trying to extract herself from what she had fallen into. But it had been too many years. She couldn't. Not without some powerful new face. He thought she was tired of him? How could he? Her own mind laughed at her question. Of course he could. She was perfectly aware she would leave him if someone else more beautiful caught her breath.   
P  
"I think you're beautiful, you know that, and I like you," she added as his eyes went slightly dead at the first part. He nodded, picking up his chopsticks in silence. She sighed and began on the noodles, glancing at Zechs from time to time, wondering what he was thinking.   
P  
He sat there, eating impassively, thinking that it was unfair that she was so devoted to him only because she thought he was beautiful. He didn't doubt that she liked him on some level. But not enough. Not as much as everyone in the world thought she did. Not as much as he once thought she did. He blinked, resigning himself, unable to resist looking at her for a moment. Pale skinned, dark eyed, bangs striving to become the mask that Trowa's was, hair indiscernible black without proper lighting. She had on the slightest hints of make up and he was somewhat pleased that she had made an effort. He hadn't touched her for around four weeks now. More than that. It had bothered him throughout his time away. He wondered, he imagined, and he told himself to stop thinking about her as he and Heero went about acting like peace keeping weapons inspectors, driving around everywhere. And Duo. How could he forget about Duo? And how she looked at him. Obviously, she didn't understand the way she was looking at him. The noodles slipped back into the lacquered bowl and he set down his chopsticks, no longer willing to eat the cold, slimy things anymore. 


	4. Misplaced Confidence

Author: Crary   
Title: Eloquence   
Chapter Four   
AN: Hm, this took awhile to crank out. I'm not sure if other people are going to feel this way, but I got slightly freaked out. At first, it was Noin who disturbed me, and now Zechs did a little show of strangeness. Duo makes his appearance in this one.   
  
She loved the curve of his collarbone. Sometimes, when his eyes were closed, his lips parted slightly and his face upraised in pleasure, she was almost blinded by his beauty. During those split seconds she suddenly felt like the man. Heavy, clumsy, dark. It pained her to imagine how they looked. All light, ethereal, marred by her darkness, her olive toned skin and her thoroughly defined features. This breathtaking golden boy she was clinging onto, the thick gleaming pelt of hair, silver in the moonlight, that she drew through her fingers, all wasted on her . . . Then he would open his eyes and kiss her and all thoughts would be lost. The way he looked at her, through his heavy-lidded eyes made her feel beautiful. As if she was something that she wasn't. When they were finally exhausted, unable to move, wrapped around each other like children afraid to fall asleep alone, she would think about two things. There was such a huge chasm of potential here. Potential for peace, for contentment, for fulfillment. And also an unending possibility for pain. She didn't understand it. Then sleep would claim her, luring her with the scent of his skin to more certain places.   
  
Tonight, there was nothing but oppressive gloom. The steady, drawn out sound of her breathing beside him. Zechs kept one arm loosely slung around her shoulders, staring at her unblinkingly. Even asleep, she exuded this glittering edge of hardness. He could feel it. Hell, he could see it in the almost unconscious frown on her lips, in the obstinate lines of her jaw. All through their academy days, he had been almost appalled by her sense of direction. Her will was so much stronger than his. When she wanted something, there was no keeping it from her. By any means, any way, she would have it. And it frightened him because he knew first hand how unchecked ambition would end. In death. But her ambition was different. She had limits to her goals, which saved her. He supposed that one of her goals had been him. Zechs curled his hand over her shoulder, smoothing a finger over her skin.   
  
How many times had they fought together? She would appear on his screen, bangs over her goggles, looking serious, but underneath it, he could always see this almost reckless confidence. A kind of glee at backing him up. He admitted that she was a frightening women at times. She was overpowering in her confidence. And he wanted that confidence. He had wanted it from the beginning. With her behind him, as misogynist as that was, he always felt empowered. The hell with Treize, with Noin, sometimes, he had felt drunk with power. They were an almost dangerous pair. But one day, she might leave him. When Duo grew older, when his body caught up with his build, when he put that inbred charisma to use, she might follow him instead. And where would he be?   
  
Zechs allowed a small shudder through his body. Then he removed his arm and tucked it behind his head, concentrating on the ceiling. Even with all this want, this conscious desire for confidence, he knew that he liked her. He wasn't brave enough to face even the thought of loving such an inconstant woman. What his emotions wanted, and what his mind wanted, were separate. He could separate them and see it clearly. But he knew that she couldn't. What if she did love him and she never knew? Don't be ridiculous, he told himself, face hardening. Listen to yourself. Like some lovesick idiot. You'll make a fool of yourself, Zechs Merquise. Be more careful about the reputation, the life you've built for yourself.  
  
~  
  
"I think it's an Asian thing," Duo muttered. Noin glanced at him, wondering what he was talking about now. He shifted almost frighteningly huge violet eyes to her, pursing his mouth. "The hostility thing."  
  
"Oh," Noin said simply. Duo was off on one of his psychoanalysis tangents again. She really didn't want to hear it. The first few times had been kind of interesting, but when he started to talk about genetic alterations at birth and genome crap, she was lost. Duo flipped his braid over his shoulder, continuing to type and peer at the quietly working Heero across from his desk. She was waiting for him to pull up one of the cases they had been working on together. She amused herself by watching his hands. Flying over the keyboard, creating a kind of monosyllabic music. Very nice hands. Long fingers, well kept, clear fingernails. His thumbs hit the space bar equal times, alternating. He kept his wrists off of the desk below and perfectly entered the necessary codes all while still peering at Heero. Any moment now, Heero was going to throw a mug at Duo. She knew it.   
  
"You don't see me being so silent and inhospitable all the time," Duo shrugged. He inserted a disk and copied the files onto it for her. He spun around abruptly, tossing the disk to her. "Want to go to lunch with me? I have a coupon to McDonald's."  
  
"A coupon?" Noin repeated, smirking.   
  
"I'm not going to refuse a lower price just because it's McD's," Duo defended, grinning. There was this striking boyishness to him sometimes. He retained that aura of youthful indifference when he wasn't working too hard. It was something Heero never had. Trowa did sometimes. When he was with his sister, laughing, or maybe when he discovered something new. Which didn't happen very often. Quatre was too well-mannered to let peeks of boyish innocence slip through.   
  
"I'll be ready in twenty minutes. I have to give this to Zechs," Noin said, heading towards her desk. They were at opposite ends of the open working quarters for all early Preventers. Sally was officially, 0001. Noin was 0003, Zechs was 0038 as he had joined after his disappearance. Duo was 0023. Noin made her way through the groups of four desks towards Zech's workstation. He was about twelve groups away from her. And she considered it semi-good that way because then, when she zoned off, staring, nobody could quite tell what she was staring at. The air conditioner clicked on, humming discreetly in the background. There were the sounds of hands and keyboards, shifting in seats, quiet murmuring and the clipped sound of feet on carpet. Zechs was dressed in black slacks, a white shirt with tiny embroidery that must have cost more than four weeks pay, most likely given to him by Relena. It was a subtle shirt, a blank white, stiff collared and formal, but he hadn't worn a tie. He glanced up as she walked towards him, focusing pale eyes. He had been immersed in his work, files spread out on his desk, the coffee mug discarded on the floor, a small electronic notebook in his hands as he made notes.   
Noin handed him the disk, leaning on his desk.  
  
"This is a Code 3, so we can talk about it tomorrow. This is the most urgent thing I've got going right now. Duo and I found a lot of the background, but nothing unraveled so far," Noin informed, eyes scanning lightly over the papers on his desk. Together, they had certain cases that required two partners, but they also had cases that could be done alone. Even though he had gone to work on a case with Heero, his other duties had not been suspended and now he just had to catch up on his own. In reality, a vacation as a Preventer was not worth it. When you came back, you were buried for the rest of your life. "Lunch soon?"  
  
"What do you think, Noin? I'll be lucky to go home tonight with half of this done," Zechs sighed.   
  
"I'll help you," she promised, feeling her heart trip as he propped his head up with his hand. The smell of orchids hit her and she extracted the urges to cup his face in her hands, bury her nose into his neck and lick the steady pulse beating there. She thought about it and decided lunch with Duo wasn't absolutely necessary. She'd just go tell him that she didn't want to spend her time at a crowded McDonald's with forty five-year olds.   
  
With a lame mock salute she headed back towards Duo. She saw him across the room, standing, hovering over Heero with a peculiar expression on his face. Noin saw that he was reading Heero's screen, mumbling to himself, frowning. The light exploding behind his back from the windows turned his dark hair lighter, streaked with faint gold. His skin, his eyes, everything, in this particular light, had turned into shades of chocolate and caramel, an association with everything dark and sweet. Noin blinked as he moved away from Heero's desk, long legs in jeans and his Preventer jacket on. He saw her and raised an eyebrow, probably wondering why she had stopped dead in the middle of the room. She numbly showed him her keys and he nodded, moving to shut down his computer. 


End file.
